The Tale of a Loved One
by GexioGexish14
Summary: This is a three part story, which isn't entirely good, but still decent, that I thought of after watching "Marvel's Agents of Shield".


**Chapter 1- His Life**

Dustin groaned grumpily as he stirred in his single's matress, while his alarm clock blared throughout his small, albeit cozy apartment. It was still darker than the Tortino's Pizza he burnt last Thursday night, but that's what he got for waking up at five in the morning. Dustin reached over to his right, and pushed the alarm switch on the left side of his Sears alarm clock he got for his thirty-second bitrthday from his co-workers, back so the noise stopped pounding against his ear drums, then he switched it back, to turn the alarm on, that way he can start the next day the same way. He groggily sat up; smacking his lips to try to moisten his dry mouth; pushed the blanket he cozied with last night off his body, and dropped his legs of the edge of the bed. The fan he had on every night to keep his ears from ringing in his sleep, was on the lowest setting, but still spinning vibrantly, making a soothing humming noise throughout his bedroom. Dustin stood up cautiously, as he wasn't fully awake yet, stumbled over to his white box fan, no more than three feet tall, and turned it off, silencing the apartment completely.

Dustin staggered through his bedroom door, and searched the wall to the left of the doorway for the light switch to his living room. The light flickered on, shining on all of his possesions in the decent sized room. From where he was standing, he could see the green door to the stairwell of the building he lived in, was to the right of his light blue, three seated, cotton couch, that was facing his 70 inch, plasma screen TV, he owned that was hooked onto the wall. He never believed in cable, for there was nothing he liked on, and believed all news, was bad news. As for his accessories, he owned an Xbox 360, PS3, and a Wii, placed next to each other, under the TV, for his urges to play new games, and the old styled games he grew up on. There was a green door on the adjacent wall to the exit, about five feet south of it, that led to his bathroom, composed of a marble sink, medicine cabinet that doubled as his mirror above the sink, a shower with a glass door, positioned to the right of the sink, and a light yellow toilet, to the left of the sink. Another 90 degrees, was a doorway, with a counter as its right side, that led into his light pink kitchen. The fridge was up against the southern most wall, right between the stove and the sink, the latter of which was right across from the doorway. His ceiling was exactly four foot higher than he could reach, making it enough room for him to do his excersises, but small enough to not feel like he wasted space.

Dustin slowly got to his hands and knees, and crawled to the exact middle, between his TV and couch. He positioned himself to a push-up position, and slowly moved down to put as much pressure as he can on his arms, and held this pose for exactly fifteen seconds. Then, he slowly pushed up to the exact position he started, and held that pose for fifteen seconds. He would continue this, for forty more reps. After Dustin finished, he laid on his back, and scooted to the seat of his couch, placed his legs at a ninety degree angle on the coushins, and lifted himself up, his arms crossing his chest. He lowered himself back down, and continued this for ten minutes. For twenty years, he enjoyed working out, he did so at most of three times a day. Once when he awoke, once during the day, and once before he fell asleep. It gave him the feeling of superior energy, something that most others did not feel. He also liked doing them without a shirt on, mostly due to not wearing one to bed. The man got to his feet again, now with more blood flowing to his limbs, and walked to the bathroom, staring at his messy, long brown hair. He got shit for it by his co-workers, but he could care less. Sarah had a fondness for it, and so did he. He grew it out since he was ten, and kept in long since. It was his signature look. It made him who he is. That, and Sarah. The green eyes stared back at him, and the reflection returned his goofy smile, as he closed the door, reached into the shower, and turned the knob for the hot water to the right, so the liquid will fall out of the shower head, onto his arm with a warm feeling, rather than the cold feeling he got used to with her. This, was the one pet peeve he decided to keep.

Ten minutes passed in the bathroom, and Dustin emerged, with a clean, dry hair, and his black jean shorts he wore to bed every night, drooped slightly, since he kept losing inches on his waist every few days. He never wore underwear, since he believed them to be more of a hindarance, than an article of clothing. He sratched his stomach as he walked softly into the kitchen, and reaches up to the cubboard, opening it slowly, reaveling his favorite flavor pop tart, Hot Fudge Sundae. The cups he drank his chocolate milk from, were in the cabinet above the sink, so he got the biggest glass he owned, and poured from the gallon he bought from Kroger Friday night.

It was only five thirty, and he knew he had three and a half hours before having to clock in at work. The factory he worked for, made the doors for all of the Misans in the country, and although it was physically taxing for most, he had no qualms with it. With the extra time he allowed himself, Dustin kneeled down in front of his TV, pushed the open button on his Xbox 360, put his index finger through the hole of his Season 4: Disc 4 of his favorite TV show, House, and lifted it out of the disc tray. Ever since he graduated college eleven years ago, he spent every Monday watching House, every Tuesday watching the Mentalist, every Wednesday watching a Marvel movie, Thursdays were game night, the first one of the month being his Xbox 360, the second his PS3, the third his computer, and the last his Wii. On Friday, he would watch a sitcom he bought, and his choice all depeneded on his mood. Saturdays he worked out all day, and Sundays, was his day dedicated to Sarah. This kept his mind and life calm for years, and he did not want to break this pattern he had. Dustin grabbed his Halo Reach controller, and started up the DVD. He always enjoyed Hugh Laurie's humor in this show, which is why he and Sarah connected so well. He dipped his pop tart into the milk and plumped his ass on the couch to enjoy the episode.

Eight o' clock rolled around, so Dustin turned off his TV and Xbox, lifted himself off the couch, and went to his bedroom to put on his work clothes the factory made its employees wear. It was nothing but a blue t-shirt, with black jean shorts. It was a somewhat itchy attire, but working nine to five, five days a week, for nearly thirty two thousand dollars a month, was worth it. He was offered promotions since he started, but Dustin only took a few, so he could make what he is making now, just to pay off college loans and buy the entertainment he has in his apartment. He never wanted much, just enough to make Sarah and him happy. Rent was two hundred and fifty dollars a month, electricty was at most a hundred, gas was also at most a hundred, and his food bill was at max five hundred a month, but that only came every once in a blue moon. This left him tons of money he could use for himself, but he only did if there was a new game in a series he enjoyed to play.

Dustin turned off the lights to his apartment, grabbed his keys off the key rack mounted on the wall above the couch, and locked the door behind him as he entered the stairwell. He smiled at the door, and walked down the two flight of stairs he had before he reached the exit, and entered the air of Cympio City. It was a humble city, very low street crime. He turned right and walked down the side walk, past several other apartment buildings, and other bystanders that were busy getting to their jobs. There was a small resturaunt, aptly named "Puzzles" at the corner, that he stopped by every morning before work, to buy a one and a half liter of diet Mountain Dew.

"Hey Brightness! How are ya?" the manager called out to him, as Dustin entered the door. He was standing behind the counter, cleaning off the fryers. Max was a very good manager, he took no bull, but at the same time, he treated everybody with respect. Max hired two cooks to keep up with some flow, and hired another person to help him clean the place throughout the day. "The usual?"

"Of course Max, what do you take me for?" Dustin snickered as he saw Max's somewhat rotund body, dissapear around the doorway that was behind the counter. Max was in his fifty's, but still cheerful, even if he didn't have a full head of hair. The handlebar mustache he wore on his face made up for it. Max returned with the beverage and tossed it over the counter, a bit to the left of Dustin, but Dustin extended his arm and caught it soundly in his hand. "Now, I suppose you would have made me pay for this if it busted on the floor, would ya?" He raised an eyebrow at Max and smiled.

Max raised his hands and turned his head. "Hey, I've got to make a living some how!" He extended his arm and motioned his hand, asking for money. "Cough up the dough, Brightness."

Dustin shook his head as he rolled his eyes, reaching into his back pocket and retrieving his brown leather wallet, that was snapped close. He took out a dollar bill, and fifty cents from the money holder, and handed it to the manager. "You know, my last name is Light."

Max grabbed the money, and walked over to the register, opening the tray, and putting the small amount he just recieved into the machine. "I know buddy, but a 'big tough guy'", he pursed his lips and lowered his voice while flexing his arms for that part, "like yourself needs to be taken down a peg or two, eh?" He chuckled and reached into his shirt pocket, taking out a pack of Winterfresh gum. Max opened the pack, grabbing a piece, and tossed it to Dustin. "On the house Brightness."

Dustin inserted the piece into his mouth and began chewing on it. "Thanks Max!" He turn around and walked toward the door. "I hope you have a good day! Keep it real!"

Max smiled and called out "Be sure to say hi to Sarah for me!" Dustin nodded and headed down Main Street toward Misan Doors. The factory was at the end of the road, with a parkling lot that you could drive into from the crossroads at the end of Main. It was at most a ten minute walk from his house, which he enjoyed. Dustin loved hanging out in the break room, especially for the forty minutes he had left. As much, as he loved working for Misan, he also loved goofing off. He was never a serious guy, always taking things in a goofy manner. This was one of his faults, in a sense, but it always kept him going. That and Sarah.

Dustin stood at his post for hours, since that was what he did for the first half of his day. All he needed to do, was pull and push a lever, that operated a press that flattened sheets of metal to the point where the rest of the employees could call it door making material. How long the press stayed down or up, depended on how much force Dustin exerted in that particular direction. Each piece would take a half hour to make, leaving Dustin to average twelve pieces before break, allowing him ahead of the game. He took a break at one pm every day.

When one o clock came around, he headed into the break room, and high fived the Accountant of the factory Mike Douglas, a tall, built, brunette fellow of thirty. He was Dustin's best friend throughout High School. Dustin was smarter, and stronger than Mike, and Mike knew this, but it kept a rival fire burning in his heart, to inspire him to do his very best throughout life. This was tough for Mike, since his father walked out on him when he was three, and his mom did crack and a different guy every day of the week.

"You, my friend, are keeping this company going," Mike smiled as he handed Dustin his pop from the fridge. "Why don't you take the promotion Shila is bothering you about? You'll get paid tons more money, and enter a world that you enjoy? Math is your strong suit. Not this."

Dustin shrugged and shook his head. "Why do you have to make it a thing to ask me on the fourteenth of every month this question?" He punched Mike's arm and snickered. "It's just not my thing ya know? I don't wanna deal with big shots. I'm a worker."

Mike looked at Dustin and shook his head. "Sarah's made you a great man dude." He grabbed a bag of Cheezits from the cabinet next to the fridge. "I gotta get back to work. Take it easy bud." He smiled and slugged Dustin's shoulder back and walked out of the room towards the stairs that lead up to the big offices that looked over the work force. Dustin smiled and enjoyed his thirty minute break of drinking his diet pop, and watching American Dad on TBS that the television on the wall had on.

At the end of the work day, Dustin headed up the stairs he watched Mike walk up at one, and walked toward Shila's office, whose yellow door was open. The five foot two, twenty eight year old, black haired woman, was sitting at her desk, wearing a low cut, dark green shirt, having her long hair tied into a ponytail, writing in her report journal. Dustin knocked on the door, and startled her slightly. "Oh, oh.. Hello doll." She stumbled up and opened the drawer of her desk and took out an envelope that had Dustin's name on it. Dustin walked over to her, and smelled a vanilla aroma emitting from her.

"That's a lovely smell, Shila," he smiled and graciously took the check from her hand.

Shila beamed, and twirled her pony tail with one finger, looking down at the floor, as seeming embarassed by his comment. "Oh, this? Nah, it's just my new body wash." She looked up at him, and connected her brown eyes with his green, something she loved to do every chance she got. "I hope you have a good day doll, you did a great job today." Dustin nodded and walked out the door, with gusto, knowing the boss was pleased. Shila slunked back into her chair and sighed. But then, she slammed her fist onto her desk and frowned. "You WILL be mine Dustin." She growled angrily as she continued her work.

As "We Will Rock You" was booming from his radio, Dustin did his sit ups next to the bed, smirking and singing along to Freddie Mercury, a person he considered a National Treasure. Doing two hundred of them, he stood up from his crouched position, and dialed on his radio, a number that made it turn off after a certain amount of time. He always fell asleep listening to the CD Sarah gave him, mostly because she knew what he liked. He laid down on the bed, and turned off his light, staring at the alarm clock which read ten thirty. Dustin turned to his side, and covered up with his blanket, as "You Are My Sunshine", a lullaby Sarah sung to him when he depressed, started playing from the radio speakers. He felt a tear flow from his eye, as he clenched his fist to his chest. "I love you, Sarah," he muttered softly, with his voice cracking, as he fell sound asleep to the lullaby.

_"You Are My Sunshine, my only sunshine-"_


End file.
